Nox (Part IV)
Madam Pomfrey tsked and fussed as she always did when faced with an injured student, but it was the first time the lines around her eyes were so obvious. The way she looked at Sansa and himself - it was a gaze filled with pity and grief.
Jaime Lannister was not accustomed to pity. He was the son of Tywin Lannister, a scion of an old family that ran a mining empire in both the Muggle and Wizarding world. His mother Joanna had been the sole heiress to a massive fortune left behind by a banking mogul; a fortune of which he himself now possessed a third of.
There was almost nothing in the world he wanted that he could not buy. Almost.
“By the next full moon, the changes will become apparent.” Dumbledore said very gently as Sansa stared blankly ahead, refusing to acknowledge the headmaster. The Ravenclaw Seeker was still dressed in her bloodstained clothing. “However, it will take a few moonrises for your condition to fully manifest.”
There were time turners, Jaime supposed as he stared out the window beside Sansa’s bed. Theoretically, he could try to turn the clock backwards, to save the both of them from the horrors of the past few hours. But there was nothing in the world which could have compelled him to return. Never again did he want to relive the way his beloved sister had found use for him; never again did he want to listen to the sounds of Sansa’s tortured cries.
Money could not buy back what innocence Sansa and he had both lost in a span of mere hours.
“What about Jaime?” The girl asked after a beat, turning her piercing gaze towards him. He couldn’t help but notice that she still clutched at Cersei’s Yew wand. The sight made his stomach lurch unpleasantly. “His hand…”
“Ah.” The old man looked away. With a small twitch of his elegant fingers, he dismissed the school matron. Madam Pomfrey hesitated, before acquiescing. “That’s a delicate matter. There are spells we could research…”
“After what we've been through, the least you could do is to stop treating us like children.” Jaime said coldly, in the tones of a man not used to being disobeyed. He sounded like his father, he considered with a modicum of surprise.
Albus Dumbledore peered carefully at him. “We can try, but the fact is, it is unlikely we can reverse the damage. While Mr. Potter doubtlessly saved you from bleeding to death, the spells he cast…they have permanently impeded any methods available to us that could have healed you.”
“So you can't help him.” Sansa asked flatly. “The way you couldn't help me.”
“It's not quite as simple as…”
“I thought there were anti-apparition wards in place throughout the castle grounds.” She pressed on. “How did those men get in? For that matter, how did they snatch me the way they did?”
The headmaster took off his half-moon glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Miss Stark, I regret to say that of late, my attention has been diverted by other pressing priorities that requires my involvement. As a result, I unwittingly allowed certain individuals to compromise the safety of my charges.”
Jaime laughed derisively. “A werewolf student wandering on school property, and grown men abducting young girls at whim. Tell me headmaster, what good are you?”
There was a flurry of voices out in the hallway, which materialized in who else but the Starks - all of them.
“Mom?” she said in a small voice. “Dad?”
For the first time since the whole sorry affair started, Jaime watched as Sansa began to cry. Instinctively, he abandoned his post by the window with the sole intention of reaching out to comfort the Seeker, only to feel a heavy hand on his shoulder. The headmaster shook his head slightly in response to his questioning glance.
“Oh Sansa,” Catelyn Stark said brokenly, gathering her daughter into her arms. From the other side, her father Ned reached his arms around the women, while Robb and Jon hovered anxiously beside the bed. “My darling, I’m so sorry.”
In all his life, Jaime could not remember his own father embracing him or his siblings the way Ned Stark embraced his daughter and his wife. Feeling as if he were intruding, he retreated back to his former position.
“Mr. Lannister, your sister…” Dumbledore hesitated. “From what I gather, she was the mastermind of the chaos which transpired here today.”
“And here I thought you’d become too addled in your old age to spot the obvious.” Jaime said bitterly. While the pain was largely gone from his person, already, he could feel the absence of his casting hand…among other losses.
“If I am not wrong in my surmise, Cersei cast at least one Unforgivable spell tonight.” the headmaster pressed on as if Jaime hadn’t spoken. “You do know what the sentence for that is.”
Everyone knew. His sister would face imprisonment for life in Azkaban, until the day she truly died for her use of an unforgivable - and it was no better than she deserved, for what she had brought down on all of them.
“Has my father been informed?” Jaime asked instead.
“I believe he’s already down at the Ministry of Magic, pleading her case.”
And what case might that be, Father? How much gold will you pour to wash her hands clean? To protect the family name?
“Cersei found a couple of older boys to…hurt Sansa. That is all I can attest to.” Jaime said at last, hating himself more with every word. In spite of what she had done, he could not bring himself to consider his twin rotting away forever as Dementors fed on every last crumb of hope in her soul.
“Ah yes, there is the question of her accomplices and their whereabouts,” Dumbledore hesitated.
Jaime weighed his next words carefully. “What of it? They took Sansa. I did what I had to do to protect the both of us. You understand, don’t you Albus? You strike me as a practical man yourself, who picks his priorities as he sees fit. Tell me I’m wrong, why don’t you?”
The headmaster scrutinized the eldest Lannister son with something like dislike. “I suppose I cannot dispute that. The things I have done Jaime…the things I will do to save us all. You have no idea.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. I do very much have an idea.” Jaime said harshly. “The rest of us can go hang if it means you get to win your war against Riddle.”
Pale blue eyes regarded him in sullen anger. Suddenly exhausted, Jaime was the first to glance away, only to catch the end of a sentence he did not much like the sound of.
“…registry of Magical Creatures. They’ll get the paperwork done and we can…”
Sansa had stopped crying. Instead, she was beginning to look panicked and frightened all over again as she listened to her father’s words. Her fear should have been obvious to her parents, judging from the way she was hugging her arms around herself.
“You can’t be serious.” he declared, striding to stand beside her. “You cannot honestly want to register your only daughter as a controlled creature with the Ministry.”
The shock her parents felt at being addressed as such by a student of Hogwarts could not have been more apparent, judging from their gaping mouths. It was Ned who collected himself quickly.
“It’s the right thing to do. It’s the law.” her father said firmly.
“Have you gone quite mad? She’ll be stripped of all her rights as a witch. As a person even.” Jaime countered through gritted teeth.
“He’s right. It would ruin my life.” Sansa shook her head vehemently. “I will never be accepted. Not here, not anywhere.”
“Sansa, darling, you have to listen to us. The Ministry will deal fairly with you as they deal with all creatures who have been registered with them…” Catelyn spoke in soothing tones as if she were trying to convince a child.
“Indeed, they will deal with her the same way they deal with all werewolves.” Jaime said sharply. “They will send her a galleon or two every Christmas, same as they send every wolf that remains unemployed and homeless - which is practically all of them. And that would be that.”
“Lannister, this doesn’t concern you. Besides, I don’t expect you to understand what it means to do the right thing.” Robb said challengingly as he met Jaime’s angry gaze.
“It’s because of your sister Sansa’s in this mess.” Jon stated, shoulder to shoulder with his older brother. Jaime flushed in response, half in anger, half in shame. He supposed he should have expected the Starks to know by now, the facts of the matter.
“He lost his hand protecting me.” Sansa said with obvious irritation. “Which is much more than can be said for either of you. And it was Remus Lupin who bit me - I believe Professor Dumbledore here has always been aware of his condition.”
“Come on Sansa, be fair.” Robb protested, doing his best to appear unaffected by the truths his sister had so inconveniently highlighted. “You’ve kept us out of everything that’s been going on. If you’d only told us…”
“Why would I tell you anything, when none of you have ever listened to a word I’ve had to say? When have you ever treated me as anything other than as stupid little girl?” she demanded angrily.
“This isn’t the time to be childish. Sansa, please see some sense, I beg of you.” Ned interrupted. “The Headmaster’s acceptance of Lupin here in Hogwarts should re-assure you, if anything.”
“This is my life you’re asking me to throw away.” There was a bitter note in Sansa’s voice as she tossed aside her sheets and moved to stand beside Jaime. “Please don’t make me. If you love me, if you truly care for me, you won’t ask this of me.”
Her parents looked helplessly at each other, before her mother stepped forwards beseechingly. Catelyn wrung her hands as she started, “Sweetheart, I know it seems frightening now but…”
The headmaster cleared his throat loudly and pointedly, causing everyone to fall silent.
“Perhaps its time we left Jaime and Sansa to retire for the night. The both of them have been through a lot today. The least we can do is allow them some respite before they face the challenges of tomorrow, of which there will be many.”
“Both Jaime and Sansa were under your care Albus.” Catelyn said harshly, rounding on the Headmaster. “The children should never have been endangered the way they were. We left them in your care - and now, my daughter is a werewolf, and the boy has been maimed.”
Clasping at the woman’s shoulder, Ned nevertheless looked to be in agreement with his wife. Sighing, Catelyn reached over and kissed Sansa on her forehead. In return, the Ravenclaw seeker wrapped her arms tightly around her mother, before releasing her hold almost reluctantly.
“No matter what your sister has done, I know you tried to save my daughter.” Catelyn said, turning to a surprised Jaime.
Perhaps they weren't aware of all the facts, he thought with strange relief.
Gently, the woman reached up and pulled him into a quick hug; the gesture brought to mind his own mother, and how very much he missed her. “Thank you.”
“If you need to speak with your parents, remember we always keep a supply of Floo Powder by every hearth in every common room.” Dumbledore said, casting the couple one final, meaningful look as he ushered the reluctant Starks out of the Infirmary. Jaime did not miss the old man’s intent.
“Lupin’s part in all this, and why you chose to keep his condition a secret from the rest of us - you will explain yourself.” Ned could be heard saying as their steps faded away down the corridor. Even exhausted, the anger in his voice which he had hidden in the presence of his daughter was unmistakable.
Once they were truly alone, Sansa said, very flatly, “I know my family. They’ll drag me to the steps of the Ministry no matter what I have to say. In fact, they’ll probably register me whether or not I’m with them.”
“I won’t let them ruin your life.” Jaime stated. The both of them had suffered enough in one day to last a lifetime. Reaching over with his good hand, he held on tightly to her. “Do you trust me?”
The answering squeeze she gave him was all he needed. Already, plans were taking shape in his thoughts, all moulded by one single motivation.
He would not fail her; never again.
***
Alone in the dark hallways, the two of them moved quietly towards the Ravenclaw dormitory.
“Don’t you need to gather your things?” Sansa whispered.
“The only thing I’m taking with us is my brother. I will not leave him here in the care of Albus Dumbledore, and I will not have him return to the tender embrace of my father and his new cronies.” Jaime replied.
Stepping into the common room, Sansa pointed him towards the boy’s sleeping quarters, as she herself hurried to the room she shared with Jeyne. It was close to dawn, and she had doubted that anyone would be awake. Moving as swiftly and silently as possible, Sansa changed out of her bloody clothing. Grabbing her satchel, she stuffed within it, some personal artifacts.
“Where are you going?” Jeyne asked from behind her.
Stiffening, Sansa slowly turned to face her roommate. The other girl gazed back at her through tear filled eyes; her casting hand never wavered as she pointed her wand directly at the Seeker’s heart.
“How long?” Sansa questioned. “How long has your will not been your own?”
“I don’t even know anymore.” Jeyne cried softly. “She had me make sure you’d return here yesterday, and told me what I must do if you were to come back today. I tried to resist her Sansa, truly, I did…”
“You can fight this.” Sansa stepped closer; the truth in Jeyne’s words was obvious. It was clear that the girl was still trying to fight the Imperius curse…trying and failing. “You’re stronger than you think.”
“I can’t…I have to do this. You don’t understand, you’ve never been cursed like this.”
“Let me help you. Please…”
“I can’t. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Jeyne was unable keep the sob from her voice. Sansa shut her eyes, trying to picture being anywhere else at all. “Avada Ked…”
“Stupefy!” someone whispered fiercely.
There was a loud thump. The Seeker’s eyes snapped open. Sansa found herself looking at the Lannister brothers, who in turn, were staring at an unconscious Jeyne in burgeoning horror. Tyrion’s wand was still held at the ready.
“Is she…” Sansa breathed.
“Someone will find her. They’ll fix her.” Jaime stated. “We have to go, now. My sister could have spelled others.”
Grabbing her small bundle of belongings, Sansa hurried back to the common room with the other two. Without wasting a second, Jaime grabbed a pinch of Floo powder and threw it into the burning hearth, turning the flames green. With his hands holding on tightly to both Sansa and Tyrion, he stepped into the fireplace.
***
Muggle London was beautiful, Sansa thought as she gazed out the windows of the hotel suite.
A long time ago, when she was much younger, her parents had brought herself and her brothers out to a Muggle production on the West End - a stage show about a beautiful opera singer who had been abducted by a besotted monster that dwelled in the dark. It seemed so romantic then, the notion of a man who had to own a woman at any cost.
The idea seemed so ghastly now.
Close by, Jaime stared wordlessly into space, gazing at tableaus she couldn’t herself glimpse. His brother was asleep in a separate bedroom, in an entirely different wing, within their lavishly appointed suites.
Truthfully, it was no secret how much wealth the Lannisters possessed, but to know it and to truly see it were very different things. Who knew hotel suites could possess individual wings, for starters?
“My mother, she left me money after her passing. I am of age, and no one can keep it from me,” he told her as they ascended the steps of Gringotts as dawn broke overhead. His dark robes concealed the blood she knew was soaked into the fabric. “But they can still track us if we’re not careful - we need to be quick about this.”
Together with Tyrion, she waited out in the empty bank vestibule as Jaime spent the better part of an hour doing something rather complicated with a very harried looking goblin.
“Sorry about my sister.” the younger Lannister brother told her with a grimace. “I can’t say I’m surprised. I’m just glad Jaime’s taking me with you. I hate to think what it would be like, being the only one left with my father...I've never been his favorite, so to speak.”
Unable to think of a suitable response, Sansa had shrugged, choosing to stare blankly at the opposite wall. When Jaime’s business was finally concluded, he looked grimly satisfied as he ushered them out of the establishment.
“It's done then?” His little brother asked shrewdly. “All converted, transferred and managed as we speak?”
Nodding, Jaime added, “I’ve paid the goblins enough, they will stay silent for at least a hundred years. They also gave me a name…”
Had Sansa the energy, she might've been astonished at the worldly knowledge the brothers seemed to possess. As it was, she numbly allowed herself to be steered towards Knockturn Alley, where they found a wild haired young man who didn’t look altogether sane.
“What you’re asking is possible, but it is very illegal. I could lose my operating license. I’m trying to become respectable here,” the man had argued, gesturing frantically. Without batting an eye, Jaime slid an uncounted bag of galleons over the dusty counter that separated them.
The merchant sighed and lifted his wand, chanting a few quick cantrips. There was a spark in the air, and then nothing.
“That’s it then?” Tyrion piped up. “Shouldn’t I get the same treatment, if we’re really doing this?”
“I still don’t understand…” Sansa began with a small frown.
“I’ve lifted the Trace off you luv,” the man said almost kindly. “You’re an underage witch. I assume you’re here because you’re running from something. You can’t very well run and do magic at the same time, if the first accio you cast ends up leading your pursuers right to you.”
“Five hundred more galleons for my brother.” Jaime said calmly. “And when that’s done, we have more business to discuss.”
That had been hours ago. With their most pressing needs taken care of, the three of them traipsed into Muggle London, allowing Jaime to check them into a hotel. If anyone had anything to say about their disheveled appearance, the wad of British pound notes Jaime shoved across the counter dissuaded questions. In all her life, Sansa had never considered what life would be like with a bottomless supply of money.
In one day however, all her lessons were being learned, for better or for worse.
Bathed and rested, Sansa suddenly found herself at a loss for what to do next as she drifted between lushly furnished rooms in a fluffy white bathrobe. Eventually, she found herself staring out the window, down at the thousands of people - muggles and wizards alike - traipsing the streets far below.
“What are you thinking?” Jaime asked softly, moving close behind her.
“I’m thinking that if the people who ran this place knew what I was, they’d throw me out in the gutter.” her fingers unconsciously went towards the bite wound on her shoulder. The marks were finally beginning to scab over.
“The people here don’t believe in magic.” he said bluntly. “To them, we’re nothing but stories. And even if they suspected anything, believe me when I tell you, money paves the way.”
“Is that what I’m reduced to?” Sansa asked sharply. “Am I at the mercy of your good graces?”
Without warning, he pulled sharply at her elbow with his good hand, forcing her to look at him. “Now is not the time for you to become mired in self pity.”
He released her and ran his hand through his damp and tousled hair. “It’s my fault what happened to you. If I had paid more attention to what she was doing, if I had only thought to…”
“God listen to us.” Sansa shook her head, reaching up to touch his cheek. “We’ll do each other no good if we go on this way.”
“I’ve ruined your life.” he said raggedly. He made to touch her with his right hand, but she could see him regretting the action immediately, the moment he remembered that he no longer had a right hand to use. Impulsively, she reached for his right forearm anyway.
The skin around his stump was still an angry red, but the injury had clearly healed; James Potter’s healing spells had been expertly done, nevermind that they had been ultimately ruinous.
“I’m smart. I’ll think of a way to help you, I promise.” she said softly.
Jaime tilted her chin up, and brought his lips crashing down on hers. There was a certain desperation in his touch, an undisguised need for comfort. Without hesitation, Sansa allowed him to pull her close, allowed his hands to untie the sash of her bathrobe. With shaking hands, she fumbled at the buttons of the clean shirt he now donned and pushed the thin cotton off his shoulders. Very carefully, she stroked the bare skin of his body.
“I don’t…I don’t want to stop. I need to feel like my body is mine again.” he breathed against her lips, his hand sliding down the smooth of her bare back. “But I’m afraid I’ll hurt you.”
Sansa suddenly recalled what he had said to Cersei back in the forest.
You saw fit to make me your mindless fuck puppet, your obedient little slave.
“You won’t hurt me” she replied determinedly, knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt that she would do all that was in her power to protect him, the way he was shielding her. “I promise you, I want this. I want you.”
Pressing her hand against his cheek, Jaime tilted her chin and kissed her once again.
Very slowly, he moved his lips across the expanse of her skin, tracing a steady trajectory down past her clavicle. A gentle hand stroked the side of her body, before his fingers moved with purpose between her legs, brushing lightly over her clit. Sansa gasped out loud at the sensation, barely acknowledging the fact that he had steered her towards a nearby divan.
The back of her knees hit the edge of the cushioned surface, causing her to fall backwards into downy pillows. She couldn’t help herself then - Sansa giggled, opening her eyes. As soon as she caught sight of his burning expression however, all laughter died in her chest.
Climbing clumsily onto the divan so that he leaned over her, his soft lips latched gently onto her breasts, laving each with almost worshipful attention. His left hand returned to their place between her legs, stroking and teasing, before he slipped the tip of his forefinger into her inviting warmth.
Sansa arched her body against his touch, crying out softly in need.
“Is this…” he fought for breath as he lifted his gaze. “Is this ok?”
“Yes.” Sansa whispered, wondering how she could even think coherently as he scraped lightly against the walls of her slick passage. Her own hands were fisted in his golden hair.
“Sansa, have you ever…I mean…will this be your first…uh…that is to say…”
“Does it matter?” she interrupted, not missing the distinct hardness she could feel within his trousers. When he continued staring at her questioningly, she huffed in slight indignation. “No, alright? I’ve never. Don’t be such a man about this.”
A hint of his old smugness returned as a leonine smile spread across his features.
He looks like a cat with a fat canary within its reach, she thought.
“Good. I suppose this makes you utterly mine.” he stated. Leaning on his right arm, faster than she could have thought possible, Jaime relieved himself of the rest of his clothing. Sansa gasped as she felt his naked cock against her thigh.
His good hand tilted her face so her lips would meet his; at the same time, he slid his length inside of her. As Jaime ripped through the last vestiges of her innocence, Sansa started slightly at the sting.
Jaime swallowed her moan with a determined kiss as his thumb stroked her cheek soothingly. Against the pain, she felt him tense within her, felt him holding himself back in trembling resistance.
“I can stop if you want me to.” he breathed. “I swear, I can…”
“Shhh…” she found herself saying. Sansa shifted her hips a little, allowing her body to become accustomed to his presence. “Just go slow…please…”
She could have sworn he sighed in relief as he began to move at a careful pace, stoking at a fire inside her that had yet to be extinguished.
“Sansa…” he whispered against her skin like a litany.
Dawn found the two of them wrapped in each others arms and curled under their robes, soundly sleeping past the first rays of the early morning sun. Tyrion took in the sight, half disgusted and half oddly relieved, before he made his way down to the lobby in search of breakfast.
***
The three of them stood in front of the large windows, staring out at the airplane positioned directly in front of them. Already, the calls for them to board the craft had commenced.
“You sure this thing will carry us across the ocean?” Sansa asked nervously. “It looks a bit…heavy.”
Jaime tucked a comforting arm around her and kissed her hair, saying reassuringly, “Yes. This is the easiest way for us to travel without being tracked. Most of our people aren’t very good at understanding Muggle technology. Well, with certain notable exceptions, obviously.”
Raising his new right hand, very gingerly, Jaime smoothed his palm over her glossy hair. Between Sansa and Tyrion, the two Ravenclaws had worked out a way to give Jaime a replacement limb, which looked and felt real. Still, it was just a transfigured thing; while it could grasp clumsily at objects, it sensed nothing, and could not cast a working spell.
Although, Sansa blushed as her thoughts wandered, Jaime had already figured out a myriad of uses for his new hand, particularly when they were alone. Judging from the flare of desire that momentarily clouded his eyes as she looked up at him, she knew those intimate scenes stayed with him as well.
Tyrion hurried back to his travel companions, his arms laden with crisps. “You wouldn’t believe the flavours these muggles have. I mean, what is ‘Ranch’ and what does it taste like?”
She couldn’t keep herself from giggling.
“We’ll find somewhere safe, somewhere far away.” Jaime had promised her only the night before as they surveyed their freshly delivered and expertly forged British passports. “Somewhere no one knows who we are, and we can start again without any fear. We’ll even owl your family, let them know you’re fine.”
“Will I ever be fine?” she asked him bleakly.
Jaime pulled her into a hug as she buried her face in his chest.
“I swear on my life I’ll protect you.” he promised softly.
They had two weeks before the next full moon, two weeks to ensure she was in a position where she couldn’t hurt anyone when she finally turned.
In the time since their flight from Hogwarts, the Starks had reported Sansa missing, and had highlighted to the Wizarding press, the importance of finding her before the next full moon. It was clear her new status was now a matter of public knowledge; turning back to the magical community had effectively become impossible, not without her life becoming substantially altered.
Of the matter of Remus Lupin, the Daily Prophet remained silent, but Albus Dumbledore himself was being raked over hot coals, both for the sake of Sansa’s predicament, and for her subsequent disappearance.
Concerning Cersei’s arrest and misdeeds however, or the fact that the other two Lannister siblings were nowhere to be found, the papers made not a single mention.
“One would be forgiven to think our Father may have lined a pocket or two at the Prophet.” Tyrion had observed wryly as he ignited a copy of the newspaper over a small bin. “Whatever would people think of us if they only knew how we bought our loyalties?”
“I can’t imagine anyone being surprised at what the Lannisters are capable of.” Jaime replied bitterly, watching as the ashes drifted lazily in the air.
None of them were fool enough to believe Tywin hadn't launched his own search for his children of course. Unlike the Starks or the Aurors, the Lannisters were well aware of how both the Wizarding and Muggle worlds operated, given the family’s vast business dealings.
The irony that their father had aligned himself with the likes of Tom Riddle and his Muggle hating fanatics was not lost on either of the brothers. If anything, Sansa sensed a sort of confusion on the part of Tyrion each time he considered his father’s motivations.
Regardless, even though the three of them were cocooned by Muggle London, it was painfully obvious that the city would not protect them forever. Their only real choice was to run, and run far, or else risk capture.
“Hey.” He squeezed her hand, summoning her thoughts back to Heathrow Airport. He smiled a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “We never did figure this part out. I suppose I ought to start calling you my girlfriend.”
Observing his false cheer, Sansa would that she had it in her power give him back what Cersei had so brutally ripped away. When his sister imposed her will upon Jaime, she had also irrevocably shattered a part of him. Already, she missed the shine in his eyes, the mischievous sparkle of which she had become so fond.
Perhaps she couldn’t give back what he - nor she - had lost. But all hope could not have been destroyed, she decided. After all, here they still stood, trying to find something better, to gain something more.
“You’re a bit slow, but at least you’ve arrived.” she replied firmly, reaching up on tiptoes to kiss him lightly on his lips. The way he smiled back at her then, without a trace of darkness, the manner in which his left hand cradled her as if she were something precious…Sansa knew in her heart, it wasn’t too late for either of them.
“Please do stop being disgusting.” Tyrion scowled, adjusting his backpack. Rolling his eyes, Jaime gestured subtly with a carefully concealed wand in his left hand, and magically mussed his brother’s hair. This resulted in a minor slap fight between the siblings.
Finding it within herself to push past the twinge in her heart, Sansa took a step, and moved forwards onto the next chapter of her life.